


Monochromatic

by sky_kaijou



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Did I mention angst, M/M, Meeting, Somebody needs a hug, Violetshipping, communication issues, inspired by a song, joukai, kaijou, puppyshipping - Freeform, sads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 15:49:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10970433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_kaijou/pseuds/sky_kaijou
Summary: [KaiJou] How we met, how we departed. Where did we go wrong?





	Monochromatic

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics by Halsey (Colours).  
> The story was initially going to be called Colours, but I hope Monochromatic does it justice.  
> Sorry for the sads.

****_You were red and you liked me 'cause I was blue_  
You touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky  
And you decided purple just wasn't for you 

  * ****_Colors – Halsey._  
  
  




There’s no easy way to start a tale like this, but I need a little perspective to pinpoint my wrongdoings.

 

I was out for my twentieth birthday, at an izakaya, tucked neatly down the dim backstreets of Domino’s food district; between the glowing signs and the warm, buzzing atmosphere, next to a sake bar that served intricate flavours from every region of Japan. This was a place I was familiar with thanks to social dinners that danced around unsigned contracts and my business partners’ love for alcohol and food.

I loved this place; it served food and drinks without any questions, and always treated its’ clientele with the utmost respect and privacy. Donning a private room for just myself, I ordered yakitori, Kobe beef, and other light snacks to line the bottom of my stomach, should I head next-door. Although not a huge drinker, I’d decided that my birthday had lent me the excuse of letting a little looser than normal. I was now, of legal age, although that never stopped a man like myself before, to drink to my hearts’ content. It is, of course, the easiest way to cope with social obligations and deadlines.

It was there, I noticed the man with the blondest locks I’d ever seen, and the sweetest laughter as he poured over a nabe. Though I never saw his face, I felt a knot in my stomach akin to the feeling I used to get three years ago, around that…but it couldn’t be _him_. I tried to catch his face as I settled my tab, but he wasn’t facing me. As I departed, I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me.

As I settled into the sake bar next door, I dwelled over the clear liquid, smiley face in the bottom of the cup to show its clarity; wondering why my heart was racing when I had rarely spared a moment for the man who had so claimed my every moment while we were at school. The sake was crisp and clean as it trailed down my throat, although it should be, considering the price on the bottle. But it couldn’t be him, I thought he wasn’t in Domino anymore. I shrugged it off as the server refilled my cup, and let my mind run free.

The bell on the door knocked me back to my surroundings; a group of barely-legal men came in, plopping themselves around the bar where I sat, whilst laughing merrily, although I hadn’t noticed whom until I felt a familiar heat sitting beside me.

“Why, hello,” the voice smooth like velvet. And I looked up to see those amber eyes meeting mine.

-

It wasn’t meant to end how it did, and I’d had half a mind to tell the sake bar he was underage even if only by three months, but I’d bit my tongue and exchanged a few pleasantries between sipping the warm alcohol. He was as cheeky as ever, stealing a cup as I was distracted; and humming pleasantly at the lack of afterburn. And he stayed, despite my initial lack of conversation, and attempted to coax me out of my shell.

Somehow, I’d told him it was my birthday, and somehow, he’d disengaged from his friends and paid all attention to me, and we began to nurse the flame that I’d become so used to suppressing. Somehow, it became a drinking game, unbeknownst to me. I’d no sooner paid for the entire bottle of the clear liquor, than he had knocked back two cups like shot glasses, a red tinge on his cheeks and a sloppy grin challenging me to chase him. I’d thought until now I’d knocked my addiction to him, enveloped between the cheap spray he’d used, and the way my eyes would catch his stupid habits in that classroom, although the night was proving otherwise. I’d thought it was always one-sided, but as the night flowed, he slipped some hints that he’d always felt the same. So, I relinquished, and chased him down the rabbit hole, paying a minute acknowledgement to fate, although I despised the word, that he was meant to be here in this room with me, on this night, where we would begin again.

-

A hazy autumn sunrise had awoken me, rather, us from our slumber, where we’d both realised the previous night’s transgressions. It was rather simple, really. Two men, minus clothes, plus chemistry, meant, sparks.

Though my head felt hazy, I’d sternly told him to get out, and he’d obeyed. I hadn’t needed to remind him, but my cold voice chased him down the hall, where I chided him for being so stupid as to play a game like this with me, and if I heard anything further, I’d have his guts for garters.

But I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, stop thinking about him for weeks to follow. The way his body was magnetic with mine, and the feelings he’d ignited deep within my core were impossible to deny. There was an incredible power in the pillow next to mine being so etched in his sweat and the muffles of moans that followed. It was almost as if I was the thirstiest I had ever been, and he was the oasis I was begging to find.

-

I’d found it within me to admit my misgivings; although a rapscallion with a tainted past, whom I used to seek every pleasure in lavishing with insults, he was forgiving, loyal, and pretty darn cute. His nose crinkled every time I would make him laugh, and his smile radiated the warmth of a thousand suns. His hair was uncontrollable, and his face was distinctly western, without a trace of his half-blooded genes. The more I gazed into those amber eyes, the more I noticed the details in the little flecks of golden and chocolate that danced around his pupils. When I’d made the contact with him, he merely laughed and called me an idiot, and reasoned that because of our past, I could be forgiven for thinking he’d played me, or I’d played him, or somewhere between the two. His soul was the sixteen million colours visible to the human eye, but he burned an ultraviolet that only I could see.

And I probably couldn’t have told you in so many words then, I was _indescribably_ in love with that man.

-

I’d learned that he was working within the food industry, serving time as an apprentice in a patisserie, and he enjoyed it so. His weekends were weird, but they coincided with my strange hours considering the times and hours I would have to conduct business with foreign businessmen who refused to adapt to our way of living.

He would slowly begin to spend every weekend at mine, finishing work at 7pm on a Saturday night, and leaving the house again around 5am on a Tuesday, and I was more than fine with that arrangement. On the days where our schedules collided, the comfort of his strawberry scent on my pillow was enough to keep me grounded. Sometimes, during the week, he would bring me desserts when he’d take an extended lunch, or when he knew I would be caught up in a flurry of unanswered emails, or product launch meetings.

They were such simple gestures, but they were more than I could ever have deserved. Without his care and attention, I wouldn’t have an answer to the question, could I find happiness?

Because the answer was a thousand times yes.

-

His eyes were as wide as saucers when his birthday came; I am sure initially he’d thought I’d forgotten, but it was something I’d known from way back when. Exactly three months to the day. Although he was now an adult too, his sister wasn’t, but between myself and my brother, we had managed to get her to Domino City to see him again, which was a gift even money couldn’t buy, although it helped convince his witch of a mother.

I remember his exact words. “I love you. I don’t know what I can do to repay you.”

“Your love is more than enough.” He doesn’t know how true that is.

He spent the night with her, although I’d wished I’d had the privilege. But although it was his birthday, watching him unravel was my present.

-

It wasn’t but four months into our relationship, he’d moved into mine; as much as he’d like to argue, he knew he wasn’t living in great conditions, and what I could consider loose change would change a man’s life. He had his own room, close to mine, but he spent every night in my bed, draped around the contours of my own body as he slept soundly. That time was the time I looked forward to more than anything; the sex was incredible, but the cuddles were divine. He’d even do the little things, like lay out my shoes and suit, and slip little notes into the pockets for me to find.

-

A year to the day, my twenty-first birthday, he asked me to marry him. I’d always assumed I would be the one to ask, and that it would happen much further in our lives, but he’d elaborately baked little cakes, twenty-one in fact, with letters in icing, all scrambled. I hadn’t clicked as quickly as I’d assumed I might, but when I did, he humbly got down on one knee.

I’d told him yes, of course I would marry him. _Someday_.

I regret that choice of words now, but I wore the band he’d bought me regardless. When the media asked, I was upfront; yes, I was engaged, and if he wanted to come forward and talk about it, he could, but otherwise I was asking for privacy on his behalf. My share prices didn’t waiver, my company backed me. The ring was exactly what I’d hoped, it was platinum with sapphires, and I got him a matching one in black with rubies. The outside world eventually pieced it together, but all he’d do was wink at the cameras, and slap me on the butt, just to show them who was boss.

-

We stayed in a stagnant relationship for about two years; his routine roughly the same as he navigated his way through his apprenticeship, coming out on top and taking on a head baker role. I learned he was incredibly creative, as he made Duel Monsters themed goodies, with permission to use the character designs and everything; that man had an indescribable talent. Some people spend their whole life trying to find their calling. Although he wasn’t really duelling anymore, he still had the same passion in his eyes when the game was brought up. Sometimes, for nostalgia’s sake, we’d pull out the deck in front of the fire, and stave off our competitive streak with a round. It was the only way we communicated, badly, back then, but now it was comforting to find peace and happiness around those cards.

It was how we got close, I suppose, although at the time, I would have never admitted it.

The only third-rate person in this relationship was me, and the way I’d treated him then.

-

It was a lull around his twenty-fourth birthday, when he went out on a bender with his friends who were back from studying abroad, travelling, whatever the nerd herd was up to. I’d dismissed his pleading to reacquaint myself with them, finding that he was a lot more grounded and driven off his own accord. I’d said it in my usual tactless way, and I was sure he’d learn to forgive me, knowing the way I communicate is less than refined when it came to social issues.

I didn’t hear from him for three days. He told me I might not, but it didn’t quell my worrying; this was my pride and joy, and I wanted to spend every waking moment with him. I’d sent messages to him asking him to let me know he was safe, which turned into messages of anger. I should have handled it with more tact, but he should have realised he was irreplaceable.

He came home on the morning of day four, smelling like hell; booze, cigarettes, marijuana. He tried to hide the smell from me, knowing I absolutely abhorred the stench, but he wasn’t successful in hiding it because I was smarter than that. And I was furious; I saw red. He spent three days away from me without a single word, and I had to rely on that group of idiots that he wasn’t lying in a ditch. But no, they’d merely hidden his cellphone from him. He didn’t understand why I thought they were terrible influences, and he didn’t see the harm in such actions. But he was my everything, and he did not deserve to be treated in such a manner. He told me I was being irrational, but he never tried to see it from my point of view.

I stayed angry at him for a long time, forgetting that people could have times like this in their life, even if I never allowed myself the privilege. I was hardly a saint, dabbling in hard liquors more often than I’d like to admit, but I was never late to work the next day, and had become an expert in makeup and appearance so that nobody could tell the difference. But it was the principal of the matter, wasn’t it? By letting his friends treat him like that, they were inadvertently treating me like shit too, and if he couldn’t understand before his weekend bender why I didn’t want to associate with the losers, surely he should try to understand now. But, no.

After that day, he became a lot colder to me, although I just took it as obstinacy. But the mood lasted, the sex declined, the cuddles were few and far between, and he took to spending his weekends away from me. I wondered what I had done wrong, and even began to contemplate apologising. Seto Kaiba, apologise? Was the world crashing around me?

-

Our fighting started becoming explosive; although nobody ever struck each other, the insults came thick and fast. He started it, but I shouldn’t have retaliated. He “quit” his job, although I knew he’d lost it; and he wasn’t intent on finding another one. I’d often find him sitting in front of the TV with a video game, for days at a time.

When we fought, it was usually about inane shit. About cleaning up. But when he wanted to twist the knife in deep, he’d target my younger brother, reminding me that I was lucky he still stuck by my side, considering how ‘horrible’ I was to him. I thought he’d understand what it took to be an older sibling, but as he never grew up parentless with only his sister by his side, I guess not. I needed Mokuba as much as Mokuba needed me, and that was a cheap shot. I never made shots like that. I could have said he was a terrible brother for letting that bitch of a ‘mother’ keep his sister away from him, but I didn’t. I had learned at least a little bit of tact.

And he’d picked up the habit of smoking every day. Maybe he thought I didn’t notice, but I could see his account as it was a subsidiary of mine, and he was making regular withdrawals of hundreds of dollars at a time. Not to mention the stench, but you become blind to it the more you let it envelope your senses. A bath in deodorant isn’t going to hide your dirty habit.

-

It was a week of him being in bed. Sleeping until noon, staying up until 4am. I’d absolutely had it. It didn’t help that work was stressing me out with another company expansion. Since Mokuba had graduated school and could finally act without restriction as my Vice-President, I’d had to spend countless hours walking him through the process. The kid was smart, but he wasn’t me, and he didn’t do things the way I was used to. Employees felt like he would treat them differently, and it was causing enough of a ruckus to put me in a terrible mood.

And then I came home early, to find him smoking in the house. And I was done; apparently so was he. He wouldn’t communicate with me. He just grabbed his phone and jacket, and walked out the front door without another word.

And took my heart with him.

-

I wish I’d noticed the tell-tale signs of depression then. Maybe I was too stubborn to listen, or he was too proud to ask for help, but it sunk in when for a week his phone was switched off, and he wasn’t responding to my messages online. I knew he was safe, I had my sources, but he’d ended up taking a soulless job and living at a friends’ house, sleeping on a couch. One of those same friends that caused this whole downward spiral. I had half a mind to make them pay, half a mind to not. It was an incredible fall from grace, and he was a goddamn adult too, and actions have reactions, consequences. Mine, his, ours.

-

I wish this story had a happy ending, but that’s where we both stand now. At a standstill. He hasn’t officially broken up with me, but I don’t want to know the answer. I just want him home, and I want to try again. And it’s taken me this distance to realise what I had, and what I took for granted.

Somebody who used to greet me with a smile. Somebody who used to bake me cupcakes. Somebody who had a dream, and a honey-coated smile. Somebody who, when he laughed, made me feel human.

Every single day was monochromatic; rinse, repeat. But when you walked into my life again, it was like iridescence spilled into every chasm, and I could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips when I traced the angles of your body, hands coming to rest above your hips.

So, if you’re reading this, Katsuya, I don’t know what more I can do. I just want you home. I want you to realise that my heart is broken, shattered, whatever adjective I can use to fill these gaps still don’t describe the way I’m hurting without you. And I realise we’re both to blame; I’m going to stop pinning it all on you. Is this my fault? Please tell me why.

I wish instead of judgment, I had given you support, and time. I wish I hadn’t been so stubborn.

I’ll vow never again to use the word ‘someday.’ We can talk timelines. We can make a plan that works for the both of us, and I promise to commit to anything you’d ask of me.

I’ll vow never again to let my ego destroy something or someone so dear to me.

I’ll vow to put you first, and not my job.

I wish I could vow to never hurt you again, and I wish I could vow to protect you, but all I can do is promise to do my best, if you’ll let me.

So please, pick up your phone. Please, answer my emails. Please give me another chance. These four years, minus the last months, were the best years of my life, and I can’t, won’t throw you away.

Just tell me what to do. What to say to convince you.


End file.
